A Royal Obligation
Chapter 42: We’ve Failed You

Chapter 42: We’ve Failed You

The corridors of Valeidio’s royal palace were draped in an unsettling quiet, the kind of silence that stretched through the night, heavy lingering sorrow.

The flickering torches did little to dispel the gloom that had settled over the halls since Prince Eirik’s departure to Zephyros.

For days, the palace had felt emptier, quieter, his absence a gaping void that not even the splendor of the royal chambers could fill.

Queen Morgana sat in the dim light of Eirik’s room, the fabric of one of his robes clutched tightly in her hands.

She held it close, breathing in the faint scent that still lingered on the cloth, as if trying to hold onto the last remnants of her youngest son.

Her usually composed demeanor was crumbling, her heart aching in a way that words could not describe. How could she have let him go? How could she have allowed her child, her baby, to be sent off to a foreign land, surrounded by strangers?

She closed her eyes, letting the memories wash over her, the way Eirik used to run to her after his lessons, eager to tell her about something he’d learned, the way he would curl up beside her during storms, seeking the comfort only a mother could provide. Those days felt like a lifetime ago. Now, the thought of him being so far away, alone in a distant kingdom, tore at her soul.

"Morgana?" A voice, deep and familiar, broke through her thoughts. She didn’t turn, didn’t need to. She knew who it was. Only Xavian, her husband, could find her here, sitting in the dark, holding onto the last pieces of their son.

Xavian stepped into the room, his presence strong yet subdued, as though the weight of their shared grief had tempered his usual vigor. His gaze softened as he saw her sitting on the edge of Eirik’s bed, her fingers curled around the robe as though she could somehow summon their son back by sheer will alone.

"I knew I’d find you here," Xavian said quietly, walking over to her. He sat down beside her without another word, close enough that their shoulders touched, offering silent support.

Morgana finally looked up at him, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. She wanted to speak, but the words caught in her throat, tangled up with the emotions she had tried so hard to keep at bay. "I miss him, Xavian," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I miss him so much."

Xavian placed a hand over hers, feeling the soft fabric of Eirik’s robe beneath his palm. He, too, was haunted by memories, the day their beautiful boy was born, the way his small hand had wrapped around his finger, the first time Eirik had smiled up at him with those enchanting, trusting eyes.

He had sworn then that he would protect his son from all harm, that he would be the shield against any threat. And yet here they were, having sent Eirik away to a fate unknown.

"I know," Xavian replied, his voice rough with emotion. "I miss him too, more than I can say. But..." He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "But I believe he knows why we had to do this. He understands the duty that comes with being a prince of Valeidio."

Morgana’s grip on the robe tightened as she stared off into the distance, her mind racing with worry. "But what if he hates us for it, Xavian? What if he thinks we abandoned him, sent him off to face this alone? I wouldn’t blame him if he did. We’ve failed him... as parents."

Xavian’s heart clenched at her words. He didn’t have an answer, at least not one that could erase her fears. He squeezed her hand gently. "He might hate us, Morgana. And if he does, he has every right to. But I also believe that deep down, Eirik understands. He’s always been wiser than his years, always understood the sacrifices that come with being a prince."

A single tear slipped down Morgana’s cheek, and she quickly wiped it away, but Xavian saw it and felt his own heart break a little more. "We’ve sent him away to marry for peace, but it feels more like we’ve sent him to his death," Morgana said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can’t help but feel that we’ve lost him."

Xavian pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her in a rare display of vulnerability. He could feel the tremors in her body, the silent sobs she was trying to suppress. "We haven’t lost him, my love," he murmured into her hair. "Eirik is strong. He’s always been strong. He’ll make it through this. We just have to believe in him, trust that he’ll make Valeidio proud."

Morgana shook her head against his chest, her tears soaking into his tunic. "But what if he doesn’t? What if they never accept him as one of them, Xavian? What then?"

He held her tighter, wishing he could offer her more than hollow reassurances. "Then we’ll have to bring him home," he said firmly. "But I believe in our son, he’ll pull through, he’s always been a special boy."

They sat in silence for a long time, clinging to each other in the dim light of Eirik’s room, surrounded by the echoes of their shared memories. The palace felt impossibly large, and yet suffocatingly small without Eirik’s presence. The emptiness left by his absence was a wound that refused to heal, a constant reminder of the cost of peace.

Outside the door, just beyond the threshold, Prince Theron stood motionless, his back pressed against the wall. He had come to Eirik’s chambers, driven by the same longing that had brought his parents here. He had hoped to find some solace in the familiar surroundings, perhaps to hold one of Eirik’s belongings and feel a little closer to him. But instead, he had found himself frozen outside the room, listening to his parents’ heartbreaking conversation.

Theron clenched his fists, the guilt gnawing at him like a relentless beast. He should have done more. He should have fought harder to keep Eirik here, to protect him from this fate. But he had been powerless, just like the rest of them, trapped by duty and the crushing weight of their responsibilities.

"We’ve indeed failed you, Eirik," Theron whispered to the empty hallway, his voice thick with emotion. "I’m sorry, little brother. I’m so sorry."

He stayed there for a moment longer, the echoes of his parents’ sorrowful words filling the silence around him. Then, with a heavy heart, he turned and walked away.

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